Reverence
by Lofndotter
Summary: A one shot on Krennic and his younger lover. Possibly going to turn into a full story based off how people like this :)


A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks for stopping by. I was watching Rogue one for the fourth time today and I had this come to me. I love Krennic and I thought he should get some love. I was thinking of turning this into a story, not sure yet, but this is smut for the sake of smut so please enjoy. :)

Reverence.

Moments from this one, she would go back to scolding herself.

Shaming herself and the weakness in her body for the very man that calls her both captive and free woman. His beauty, his mistress, his brilliant little engineer with slender, nimble fingers and a captivating mind that helps power the creation of his masterwork. This man could spend his evenings inside his, blonde, well breed wife, absolving the long past years of estrangement between them. He chose instead, to disrupt the dark haired women that had formerly been, stolen prodigy child.

'I hate you.' she murmured softly in his ear.

He ignored her feigned slur of spiteful words, she has said and thought much worse and meant none of it. With a roguish grin, kept his large hands full of flesh young enough to be sired by himself, had he done so young enough. She writhed forward in his lap, filling his face with her deliciously round breasts. His greedy mouth sought them out, but she pulled them back and slapped him hard across his mouth. It was the only power he conceded to, very small liberties he awarded her for absolute reverence. A great, animalistic fire danced in her large, hazel gaze and she bit down on her swollen bottom lip to stifle the pleasure filled moan seeking to bring ruin to her momentary reign over him. His brilliant analyst was crumbling quickly into a haze of lustful bliss, succumbing to her own frenzy. Always the vixen behind closed doors, and strategic to a certain point, until he allowed her too much control. She would nibble, claw, slap and degrade him with venomous words he knew were far from spontaneously conjured up. It would fill her body to the brim of pleasure, to cause him brief jolts of erotic torment, though not as much as when the roles were reversed.

In her day to day format, she practiced a great deal of discipline, answering to only two men for her work. One was beneath her, the other cursing himself that he had not prevented this inevitable outcome.

There was, almost to the day, nineteen years between them and years of dues paid.

The Empire did not claim ownership of Nella, he did. Her success, her accomplishments were his to take credit for because he discovered molded her.

She was riding him, pushing herself to the brink of release but losing her composure with every passing second. Power was certainly not for everyone. The brief, fleeting moments he allowed her were intoxicating enough and soon, she would long for his rough hands dominating every curve of flesh on her body. To be governed and ordered, and treated like the exquisite submissive she truly was. This here was his most treasured detail of their intense meetings of skin. The point where he asserted his position of authority over her, and the heavenly reaction she bestowed on him. His torturous essence gave the young scientist the biggest thrill, something no amount of coding could even begin to work out.

Director Orson Krennic had plucked her from obscurity, purchased her unpolished brilliance from man she no longer recognized as blood and put her beautiful brain to work. Nella had been two months away from turning fourteen when he had found her. A frightened, knobby little thing with big tawny- mossy eyes and a mop of dark hair. He hadn't known what would become of her beauty at the time, he initiated her reliance on him to be diligent in conditioning reform. If Nella required anything, it was through this man. The change in her had happened all but overnight, at seventeen he had to all but avert his gaze to save him from feeling a shattering urge to defile her. The way she looked looked upon him with both worship and trepidation, pining for the architect of her position. What susceptible little girl had not once dreamt of the holding the attentions of an older, distinguished, handsome man? A green student awaiting the skillful lessons one could teach.

He had not dared lay a finger on her body until she had willingly crawled to his feet, two tortuously long years after she had blossomed and embraced her own charm.

One release, was all it had taken. One moment of exploding stars behind her eyes that travelled down, curling her toes to begin a dark, deep descent into bittersweet credence. Large, slender fingers twisted into her thick hair. They were part of elegant, ruthless hands responsible for so much death while remaining all but spotless themselves. His grip was gentle at first, and if an outsider were to observe they would mistake it for a deep and romanticized embrace. There relationship cut deeper into the realms of devotion, for it was a connection between king and paramour, master and slave.

His hold on her soft tendrils sped past amity when he abruptly yanked at the roots. Nella's eyes fluttered open, chestnut and moss burned into his crystalline, blue eyes baring a string of contempt, adoration, and insatiable devoir.

How she longed to break the spell of urgency for his deliberate touch, but she knew full well, the need for her compliance was just as critical to his own thought drove her mad with fervour, to know her existence affected him so deeply, but it came at a cost. His jealousy was far more deadly than his work ethic and determination. As a result of her stunning countenance, many men had attempted to woe her, all completely unaware of the invisible brand burned into every inch of her flesh. Conveniently, for Krennic, every pathetic excuse for competition would somehow go missing from the system. What had truly rattled her conscious was, finding the acts of extreme possessiveness rousing.

From the very beginning of their torrid affair, she had known it to be wrong, but he had been like a substance to abuse from the very first hit.

The remorse for her actions were budding early this time, and her pace atop him slowed. He could feel the change in her before it happened, as if the thick, heated air between them had frozen in time. This happened from time to time, a bought of defiance born of sudden mindfulness. The imperial director had become harmonized to her emotions, this attention to every detail had proven crucial to his reign over the astute darling of his. He knew he didn't deserve this, to have a young, stunning mistress willingly perched atop him. Orson's feelings ran deeper than love for her, in fact, he had never allowed her to want for anything. His hold on her hair failed to cease, his other hand freed the curve of her waist and grabbed her jaw between thumb and middle finger. Sometimes she needed a nudge, he refrained from smiling when she glowered, challenging his order longer this time, the rolling of her hips ceased.

"I never told you to stop, did I?" he growled, hard member still throbbing inside of her tight, slick walls. No reply sounded from her luscious lips, his grip loosened in her hair and released mouth from its vice. With great arrogance, Krennic leaned back in the chair, completely sure that Nella would obey. He simply rolled his own hips upwards, sending a thrusting shock of pleasure and she could hardly contain herself from simply giving in. It had freed her mind of guilt and replaced that with a sudden mirth.

An amoral grin flashed over her lovely, flushed features and she decided on a game to push him over the edge.

Casually and careful not to show him the remorse of slipping him from her, she stood and backed a few steps, away from the wrath of his reflexes. It was a terribly empty feeling without him filling her to the brim, but this was all part of her devious little plan. The purpose of her little game had yet to enter his mind, and frustration clouded his judgment for the time being.

Her keen, avid eyes still took in the astounding form of her older lover. Director Krennic owned a solid, lean body of average height for a man. There was a very robust layer of sinewy, lines carved out in freckled flesh, they were much like the plentiful speckles on his flesh that gave him an almost boyish look. His left shoulder was marred by a sunburst of scarred skin from years before, and it only added to his aesthetic. For his age, his body stayed well kept and in peak condition, his arms could hold her down or up with astounding ease. Nella had undoubtedly served as inspiration to keep up strength and stamina over the years, and admittedly to himself, he had never been in better shape. She tried not to lick her lips, watching the discontent furrow of his brow and glistening, pale muscles tense. His most impressive muscle, still stood full and more frustrated than any other part of him at the loss of its tight sheath.

"Get back over here." he commanded.

"Go order your wife to ride your cock." she paused, and positioned herself over him. " or better yet, slide yourself into another young, obedient hole that you steal away."

She was partly serious, it wasn't as if the thought never crossed her mind. She knew well enough that he never loved his wife, he meerly borrowed her womb twice to breed sons and in exchange, his title allowed her to lead a luxurious life. It was the second bit to her jab that revved up the level of displeasure, her tone accused him of perversions beyond legalities. Nella had meant it as a harmless way to unravel him But to Krennic, she was wittily discounting the entire build of their partnership together. What kind of monster had he created in her, that she sought out emotional warfare instead of simply stopping after a harmless jab at a life with another never lived?

It was the same lustful creature that would weep for her morality after his every departure, then crave his experienced, commanding presence five minutes later. Her bright eyes surveyed him careful, anticipating an outburst of rage that would be translated into a merciless lesson in respect, sparks of frenzy coursed through the young woman. She hardly realized the effect of her misplaced words until, in one blurred second of Mania, he had stood and thrown the chair across the room. Nella jumped, for the first time ever, he had truly affrighted her.

fter years of a built up trust that supported their Dominant and Submissive, she had never believed he would harm her beyond a pleasurable state. This burst of anger had brought on a new feeling in her core when he rounded on her, standing only a few inches taller that his younger consort.

One hand filled itself with a rough grip of hair, the other grabbed her chin like before and the look in his eye spoke volumes to how he digested her words. This was no longer a game, and she regretted every letter.

" You think I snuck into your fathers home and carried you off into the night? Hmm?" She tried to say no, but her attempts were cut off. "That I couldn't wait to slip myself into a thirteen year old girl?" He was backing them up slowly, surely until her back came in contact with a cold, steel wall. Growling at her insolence.

"I paid for your mind, Nella. You gifted me your body, remember that." His head leaned forward, his mouth ghosting her cheek. " I own every part now." searing words causing a shudder of pleasure and suspicion through her body. Now she couldn't figure out if he was onto her or not, his words cut like a heated knife through iron. The game had lost its amusement, hurt was beginning to build in her. There was no level of jest to his tone, and her ears had memorized every differentiating timbre. Whenever he claimed ownership, it had been in the throws of passion, on the brink of release. Her dire need for him however, did not lessen and that should have brought about more concern. Without warning her eyes produced enough to gloss them over with emotions, she reached out, softly tracing the lining of his scar. "Orson." Her voice breathy, and coated with a luscious regret. Her continued innocence after all these years, even after becoming aware to every desire had always pleased him, greatly. His temper softened only slightly, "Forgive me, " She whispered. "I only meant to rile you a bit more."

His hand at her chin opened slightly to accommodate the slow, maddening descent down her throat, holding his hand over her larynx. She felt a slight pressure against it, yet his eyes were focused on her reaction. "I'm always riled at the sight of you."

The grip in her hair weakened, his touch softening to comb through silken waves. Normally, this tender action was saved for bringing her back down to him post passion, or calming a twitch in her sleep. Nella inclined her head, into his touch. It left her only wanting every part of skin on flesh, one hand grabbed ahold of the one at her graceful neck and guided it down to rest between her breasts, allowing him to feel the thumping of her heart. The other meaningly, desperate to feel him against and inside of her reached out toyed with his bare torso until the other palm joined to venture lower. He growled through gritted teeth when one velvety mitt twisted around his engorged member. Generously, he allowed her to push him back, stroking his arousal and guiding him to the bed. She mounted him again, her hand guiding him into her slick core.

So began another dance of toxicity and euphoria her body had become so absorbed in. Just as moments before, his hands were filled with young, heavenly flesh. He clutched her tightly against him as she rode with a great intensity to make up for her indiscretion. This time, she had nowhere to go when her torso surged forward, his searing mouth clamping around a raised, pink bud. A sharp cry escaped her lips when he bit down, hard on the tender part of her breast. Fresh out of warring behaviour, Nella did not object when the older man flipped them with great ease.

Krennic hovered over her exquisite form, filling her, but static in movement. Every muscle flexed with strain holding himself above, she writhed, her long legs attempting to pull him in further and start the pace once more. His rule was being established once more, the brief mutiny would be ended with a few simple words.

"Please." She begged, a low, feminine growl erupting from her chest.

"What do you want, Nella?" His voice was low and hoarse, still high off the fumes of heated fury. His mouth hovered over hers, leaving her to contemplate whether or not to embrace it with her own. Kisses were never frequently part of their fiery on the border of brutal couplings, they were usually saved for private departures, or as a means to reward one another.

His objective had changed, she was aware of it when faced with the desirous, ardor coating his light indigo eyes. Though, he would never concede to it, the Imperial director was opening a line to her, apologizing by giving her the choice of his actions.

"Fuck me." She breathed, without thinking as a habitual routine of compliance.

"No." came his answer. It was direct, yet docile in tone.

He wanted to chuckle at the bewilderment in her eyes, the same look had reminded him of their first few times together, the shock at the immense blissful luxury her body was capable of feeling at his hands. He had been so tame then, until she mustered the courage to divulge her deepest, darkest cravings that the Imperial Director had been more than willing to comply with.

He thrusted slowly, reminding her briefly that he was indeed capable of doing such. She whined out, the action prompting her memory of a slower, sensual pace, that was no less gratifying.

"What do you want?" His question came again, this time she could hear the strain in his voice. The reply was stuck in her throat, her eyes becoming glassy from the mixture of unresolved tension in her body and the overwhelming affection crowing her heart. She pushed her lips forward ever so slightly, connecting with his lingering pair. To her surprise, he never pulled back, he amped up the intensity in the embrace by crowding her sweetly flavoured mouth with his tongue. His arms gave way and encircled her torso, covering her with the weight of his warm body, kissing away any ache his outburst had caused.

She broke the kiss, his forehead rested against her own, his skin was damp and feverish against the dewy sheen over her own.

"Make love to me then."

She could have sworn her heart stopped the second the words slipped from her mouth. She half expected him to laugh, even in spite of knowing full well that he loved her on the deepest most excruciating level that only existed between the two. Alternative to her assumptions, he untangled arms and propped himself up, he stayed low enough to keep every inch of flesh he could against her. The heat in each others gazes were enough to escape into one another. The new pace was measured between them, equally moving in accord as one.

Lush cries and moans filled what little space lay between them, moving to peak together. He spoke her name like a prayer and she replied with her own, screaming out his name with the overwhelming climax that curled her toes. He had reached his own crazed moment of ecstasy along with her and fell against her completely spent of any lingering energy.

A breathy chuckle escaped his lips, stifling it with several lingering pecks to her shoulder and neck.

"What's so funny?" Nella asked, still catching her breath, dazed from the afterglow.

"I forgot how it feels to go slow."

She found herself laughing along with him at the sheer obscurity of it all, that in the seven years since beginning this affair, they had not remembered the importance of slow love making. To them, the scorching sessions of savage fucking had become the normality.

Krennic laid on his back, cradling her into him as they took some time to catch their breath. It was still midday, they would both be due back at their posts any moment now. A voice over his communicator confirmed what they both already knew.

He was quick to rise, ever a man dedicated to his work. It was something she greatly admired and feared about him. Still bare to him, Nella retrieved his gently folded uniform, insisting on dressing him in each piece of elegant, power laden garb. It was another parting token of devoutness to him, reminding and imprinting herself on him wherever he would go the rest of the day. Her hands tidied his salt and peppered hair, tousling away any evidence of making love to his younger subordinate.

No words passed between them and before he left his steel walled apartment, he left a lingering kiss on her forehead.

For the first time, she felt no need to scold herself and that was more terrifying than anything else.


End file.
